From the author: I'm not sure why the story is automatically formating itself like this and I apologize. This story is based on one that I wrote quite a bit of a few years ago called "November Rain." This version is very different, more mature, and hopefully, better. I've changed a lot since I wrote that, but I still like it in a lot of ways, so this is hopefully more mature and a better read. Enjoy. -

I used to write stories about boys that treated girls like queens. They were always outcasts and misunderstood and they were always sad. Eventually, they would meet a girl, and she would show him how to love, or sometimes he would show her how to love. It was always like that, because that what I thought that love stories were supposed to be like.
In the long run, I think that I was wrong. Wrong to write those stories, because at that point, I had never been in love and I certainly had no idea what it felt like to have your heart broken by everyone around you. I had no real understanding of the overwhelming rush of chemicals to the brain that is like taking uppers and downers at the same time.
I wanted to tell this story to girls, maybe, who haven't heard it. Maybe for girls who have never fallen in love. Because eventually they will, and they will be crushed. There are so many different ways to be crushed. And maybe for boys who are misunderstood outcasts and for everybody who has ever felt like everybody else was backwards.
I never know how to start a story or carry it on because I want to skip the filler and get to all the good shit. I could tell you that filler is really important, and oh, it is. But it's terribly boring to write and probably to read too. I'm saying this in advance, just in case something seems missing. That's because, well, it is.
Nobody would let me talk for myself then, nobody would ask me questions. Everybody just me for what I looked like and instantly saw me as a victim. To this day, I despise that entire concept - the concept of being a victim. It terrifies me. The only thing that made me a victim was my age, that's it. But in this society, age plays a really big part.
Maybe I was just a naive teenager. Maybe it was the 90s. Maybe everybody else was just being fucking hypocritical and judgmental.
Eww, though, enough about me, this story is all about him.